Sunday Morning

Sunday sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains. Jordan woke tangled in sheets, the sundress twisted high on his hips, thigh-high stockings rumpled at his knees. The blue ribbon lay loose on the pillow, Elena’s scent—vanilla and sex—still clinging to his skin. His body ached in the best way, every muscle remembering her weight, her commands, the way she’d milked his confession from his throat.

Elena straddled him before he could move, silk camisole riding up her thighs, bare breasts brushing his chest through the padded bra. Her green eyes gleamed with morning mischief. “Dinner’s tonight,” she murmured, grinding slow against his hardening length. “Joanne needs options.”

Jordan’s breath hitched, hands gripping her hips. “Elena—”

“Shh.” She rocked forward, lace panties damp against his cotton. “We're going shopping. We’ll find something… perfect.” Her fingers slipped under the sundress hem, stroking him through fabric—slow, feather-light circles that made his cock twitch. “Say yes, Joanne.”

He arched, a high-pitched whimper escaping. “Please—”

“Please what?” She squeezed gently, thumb pressing the tip, rolling it in slick circles. Jordan bucked, chasing the pressure, but she pulled back, denying the full stroke. “Shopping… or this?”

From the nightstand, she picked the warming oil—jasmine scent blooming as she dripped it on her palm. Slick circles over his chest, thumbs teasing nipples until they peaked, the heat spreading like fire. Her hips rolled again, friction teasing through layers, heat building until his vision blurred.

Tell me you want to go,” she whispered, breath hot against his neck, her free hand pinning his wrist above his head. “Beg for it.”

“Elena—please... yes, I will go,” he gasped, shame flooding hot as his cock throbbed, leaking against the cotton. She rewarded him with one deep pull—fist tight, slow twist—then stopped, edging him mercilessly. She eased off, leaving him throbbing, sheets twisted. Jordan’s hips lifted, seeking friction. “Patience, darling,” she purred, tucking his straining length back into lace. “You’ll earn the rest later.”

He whimpered, “Elena, I'm almos—”

“I said not yet.” Her voice turned rough. “Save it for the dressing room. Let's find something for you to wear now.”

Elena rummaged in the closet, looking in her keepsakes, pulling faded tees and shorts from her own past. “These fit me once.” A soft gray crop top with a faded logo—paired with loose-fit light-wash denim shorts that sat low on his hips, frayed hem brushing mid-thigh. White crew socks and his old scuffed white sneakers completed his look.

She followed it with light makeup, dabbing peach gloss on his lips—the wand cool and sticky, taste cherry-sweet. A touch of shimmer on his cheeks, mascara to widen his eyes, lashes fluttering dark. She pulled his hair into loose waves, the blue ribbon retied in a half-up bow.

Jordan stared in the mirror. The reflection was definitely female—she could have been a college freshman, or even a high school senior. Faint outline of his padded bra, crop top riding to expose a strip of skin, shorts tight, waves bouncing. This is me now, he thought, panic and thrill tangling. Just another girl heading to class. The gloss tasted cherry-sweet; the shimmer caught the light like a secret.

They stopped at a corner café first—outdoor tables, morning bustle of joggers and dog-walkers. Jordan’s heart hammered as they sat; the crop top shifted with every breath, shorts riding higher. Elena ordered lattes, her hand on his knee under the table.

The barista—a lanky guy in his early twenties, tousled brown hair, name tag “Alex”—approached with their drinks. His gaze landed on Jordan, lingering on the glossed lips, the shimmered cheeks, the way the crop top clung. “Hey, love the vibe,” he said, voice warm, sliding the iced latte closer. “First time here? Haven't seen you around.” His fingers brushed Jordan’s as he set the cup down, a deliberate graze. “Would've remembered.”

Jordan flushed crimson, stammering, “Uh—thanks.” His voice came out higher than intended, the gloss making his lips feel plump and foreign. He’s flirting. With me. As Joanne. The thought sent a jolt straight to his groin, the lace panties tightening.

Alex grinned, leaning on the table with easy confidence. “I’m Alex. What’s your name?”

Elena’s hand squeezed Jordan’s knee under the table—encouraging, possessive. Jordan swallowed, the peach gloss sticky on his tongue. “Joanne,” he managed, the name tasting like surrender.

“Joanne,” Alex repeated, rolling it like candy. “Beautiful. You two sisters or something?”

Elena laughed, light and teasing. “Something like that. Joanne’s my little project for the summer.”

Alex’s eyes flicked to Elena, appreciative, then back to Jordan. “Lucky project. If you’re free later, I know a great spot for iced coffee that’s not this tourist trap. My treat.”

Jordan’s face burned hotter; he stared at the table, fingers twisting the napkin. He’s asking me out—In front of Elena. The crop top felt suddenly too thin, the shorts too tight. Elena’s thumb stroked his inner thigh—slow circles, hidden by the tablecloth. “Joanne’s shy,” she said, voice honeyed. “But she’d love to hear more. Wouldn’t you, Joanne?”

Jordan nodded weakly, voice barely a whisper. “Sure.”

Alex pulled out his phone. “Number?” Elena rattled off Jordan’s digits before he could protest, her smile sharp. Alex typed, winked. “Text you soon, Joanne. Don’t be a stranger.”

As Alex walked away, Jordan rounded on Elena the moment they stood. “What the hell was that?” he hissed, voice cracking as they headed to the car. “You gave him my number?”

Elena unlocked the doors, casual as air. “Relax, Joanne. He thinks you’re adorable. And you are.” She opened the passenger door, guiding him in. “Besides—consider it a practice for tonight. You passed.”

Jordan's phone buzzed.

Alex: Nice to meet you, Joanne. Hope to see you again soon.

Jordan's face turned redder, “I’m not ready for this.”

Elena slid into the driver’s seat, engine purring. “Don't worry—you will be... by the time I am done with you.”

She winked, her hand finding his thigh again, squeezing. “Its shopping time, now.”